


Living

by autumnmycat



Category: Neon Genesis Evangelion, Rebuild of Evangelion | Evangelion: New Theatrical Edition
Genre: Angst, Dissociation, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Kaworu is Best Angeru, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Suicidal Thoughts, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-29
Updated: 2017-03-29
Packaged: 2018-10-12 12:33:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10490982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/autumnmycat/pseuds/autumnmycat
Summary: Shinji's not too good at living. Kaworu watches it all play out.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I have nothing to say for myself except these are the two songs this is based on:
> 
> Phase Me Out: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7hGCcHkR87w
> 
> Living: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=d4oJvsAvqi0

He notices the way Shinji’s eyes fade away. It’s subtle, but he loses focus and ends up staring blankly back up at him. 

“Shinji,” Kaworu whispers. He lets his thumb brush over his cheek. There’s a tear stain. “Hey, Shinji.” 

He only pants in response.

“Shinji, are you still with me—?”

Then, his body jolts, bedsheets collected between clenched fists. He looks alarmed, like he doesn’t know where he is.

“K-Kaworu?”

The boy smiles, tilting his head as he runs a hand through Shinji’s sweat soaked hair.

“Are you okay?”

His wandering eyes give the impression that he is lost. Maybe his mind wandered off somewhere, maybe he was experiencing one of those times where he didn’t feel like himself, maybe… 

Maybe not even Kaworu can make him happy.

But, the thought dies quickly because Kaworu will do anything to make Shinji happy. He will go to the ends of the Earth, quite literally, to make sure that he feels love and affection. He’ll do anything, anything, _anything_ —

The boy underneath him groans, and it dawns on Kaworu that he forgot what he was doing.

They lock eyes, and just the idea that they are the only two beings who exist in this moment fills him with a feeling that only Lilith would understand.

“Shinji, I want to make sure you’re okay.”

This time he seems a little more focused.

“I’m—fine,” he says. 

“You don’t sound fine. Do you want me to stop?" 

Shinji shakes his head, black hair either rustling against the pillowcase or sticking to his forehead.

“I just—” he starts but pauses, gaze shifting to the clock on the bedside table, “—I’m sorry.”

“Sorry? For what? You haven’t done anything wrong—”

“Just keep—” he looks frustrated when he grunts out, “—going, okay?”

Kaworu feels something in his chest twist, but he doesn’t know what it is, doesn’t know how to respond to Shinji without angering him or making him feel worse.

So, he just sighs and says, “Alright, if that makes you happy.”

Kaworu’s words don’t seem to make Shinji happy.

 

* * *

 

There’s something about sex that is both awful and somewhat agreeable, Shinji has found.

On one hand, feeling anything is dangerous. The instant his body remembers that it is alive, suddenly, he’s hurled back into a time he doesn’t want to remember, a time of Evas and blows to the head and people dying and people wishing he were dead and—

His hand flips up and behind him so he can brace himself with the wall.

Nagisa cares too much for him.

Shinji likes _this_ because it makes him feel/not feel, his mind easily slips to other places—he can be less alive, if only for a short period of time where he’s so close with someone else that he doesn’t feel connected to himself. The problem is that he knows Nagisa doesn’t want him to feel like this. He knows that Nagisa genuinely loves him, genuinely wants him to experience what it means to feel good. But, Shinji does not want that. Shinji wants to suffer.

(Shinji would rather be dead.)

His breath is hot on his neck, and yes, it’s nice, but there’s something wrong with him. He can’t feel right anymore. The boundaries of himself are not his skin. He wishes he could fit inside his skin again. He has to hurt himself to make sure he still exists— 

(Pinching himself, catching the edge of a table, running into a door frame, using the plastic knife that came with his meal to rip his skin open—) 

Everything’s a bit hazy now. His gaze fixates on the ceiling—fixates on red eyes—fixates on flesh slapping against flesh. Is it good? Is it good? Does he know what good is?

(In an attempt to push away the bad, has he forgotten how to feel good?) 

His body lurches as he orgasms.

(It was supposed to be good, but when Nagisa’s lips catch his own, Shinji feels the urge to cry.)

 _Was it good?_ his mind asks.

“Was it good?” Nagisa asks.

Shinji can’t make his eyes focus. 

“Yeah,” he breathes, “it’s good.” 

He wants to cry at how happy he’s made Nagisa look. 

(He feels like a liar, he feels dirty, he feels like a cheat.)

“I love you, Shinji.” 

He’s disgusted with himself. He prays Nagisa can’t feel how he shivers.

“I love you, too, Kaworu.” 

(He wishes he were dead.)

 


End file.
